


Color Me In

by radiantum13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3399872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantum13/pseuds/radiantum13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has everything. A good job, a nice car, a new house. But the one thing he doesn't have is a partner to share it with, until he meets a stranger on the side of the road one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Color Me In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been stuck in a romantic rut for quite some time, until a stranger stops to help him fix a flat on the side of the road.

Dean was stressed, to say the least. He had a stack of paperwork a mile high on his desk, most of which was due in the morning. He still had to unpack the cardboard boxes that were stacked all over his new house, but that could wait for the weekend. He needed to pick up his dry cleaning tomorrow, and he should probably call Sam soon – shit, he was supposed to meet Sam and Jess for dinner with John and Mary tonight at 8:00. He checked his watch – It was already 7:36, but he could still make it in time if he left right now.

Dean grabbed the stack of papers and shoved them into his briefcase hastily. He could work on these back home after dinner. Snapping the briefcase shut, he shrugged into his jacket and grabbed his keys, pulling the door to his office shut behind him as he left.

 

The restaurant was an upscale place not too far from his office, but traffic was a bitch tonight. Why were so many people out on a Thursday night? Dean kept up a steady stream of curse words under his breath as he inched the Cadillac forward in the barely moving traffic.

By the time he reached the restaurant, it was 8:15 and he had received three calls from Sam. He pulled up to the front door and tossed the keys to the valet. Thank god he wouldn’t have to search for a parking spot. Dean walked through the front door, straightening his tie and running a hand through his hair as he went.

“May I take your coat, sir?” an attendant asked. Dean shrugged out of his overcoat and handed it to the coat check attendant.

“Reservation for Winchester,” Dean told the maître.

“Right this way, sir.” He led Dean to the middle of the restaurant, where his family was seated at a circular table. They looked up as Dean approached, and Dean could see the disappointment in his father’s eyes as Mary stood and hugged him.

“Sorry I’m late, Mom,” Dean mumbled as he embraced her.

“We’re just happy you made it, sweetie. God knows you work too hard.” Dean pulled out her chair as she sat, then sunk into the empty seat between her and Sam.

“What took you so long, Dean?” Sam jokingly asked. “Did you get lost or something?”

“No, traffic was a b-“A look from John made Dean rethink his choice of words. “-was terrible. There was an accident or something right outside the office.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Jessica said. “How did your date with Carmen go?”

“It was good!” Dean lied. The date with Carmen had been a disaster. She had met him at some dive bar, and was hitting on every guy there the entire time. But she was a friend of Jessica’s, so Dean felt he owed it to her to give Carmen another chance. “We have plans to meet up again tomorrow night, actually.”

“That’s great, Dean! I’m glad you two are getting along so well. Maybe she’s the one!” Jess enthused.

“Maybe,” Dean mused. He honestly didn’t think he’d ever find his soulmate, and he definitely didn’t think it would be Carmen. Maybe he was just doomed to live his entire life in black and white, with a string of one-night-stands to keep him company.

“So why did you guys fly all the way out from California? I know you missed me, Sam, but I didn’t think you missed me that much!” Dean joked. Everyone at the table laughed, and Dean managed to force a chuckle before Sam answered.

“Well, we actually have some good news. Do you want to tell them?” he asked Jessica with a smile.  

“Sam and I are getting married!” Jess held up her left hand as proof. Mary gasped in excitement, and immediately stood to hug Jessica and enthuse over the ring.

“Congratulations, son,” John’s deep voice boomed. “It’s about time you tied the knot with that girl!” He shook Sam’s hand, and patted him on the back joyfully.

“Congrats, Sammy!” Dean pulled Sam in for a hug. “I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said. “Hey, are you all right?” Sam looked at Dean with worry in his eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m just stressed out. It’s nothing, Sam. Don’t worry about me, you’re getting married! Be happy!” Dean said with a smile. He hated lying to Sam, but what else could he say? _I hate that you found your soulmate and I’m still alone?_ He didn’t want to burden Sam when he was so happy with Jessica. He’d drown his sorrow with a bottle of Scotch when he got home. He just had to make it through dinner.

Dean looked around the table as his family sat and continued chatting. He glanced at his watch and quietly sighed. _Just make it through dinner,_ he repeated to himself. It was going to be a long night.

 

 

By the time Dean had managed to make his excuses and leave the restaurant, it was 9:30. All he wanted was to go home and drink until he passed out, but he still had work to do before the morning. He sighed and tried to focus on the road. Maybe some music would help him concentrate. He reached over to turn the radio on, searching for a classic rock station.

_Ker-thunk!_ The Cadillac lurched, and Dean was filled with dread as he heard the dull flapping sound coming from the front right tire. He maneuvered the car over to the shoulder and got out, muttering profanities under his breath as he walked around the front of the vehicle.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled at the empty road. Now there was no way he was getting those papers finished up tonight. Dean felt frustrated as he popped the trunk and yanked out the jack. He really wanted to punch something. At least his Dad had taught him how to change a tire when he was a kid. He figured that was one good thing about this situation.

A pair of headlights came around a curve and washed over Dean, blinding him. He held up a hand to cover his eyes as the car slowed and pulled up behind Dean’s. A tall shadow got out of the car and started walking towards him.

“Are you all right?” A deep voice called out.

“Yeah, I’ve just got a flat tire,” Dean yelled back as he started jacking up the car.

“Do—do you need any help?” The man hesitantly asked as he approached Dean.

Dean stood and turned to face the stranger. He was about to decline the offer, but as he looked at the man fully for the first time, all he could see was a pair of clear, blue eyes.

Time seemed to freeze as a flood of memories washed over Dean. The smell of the ocean, and the sound of Sammy’s laughter as he played on the beach with John and Mary looking on. The wind blowing in his face as he squinted into the sky, watching his kite fly higher and higher into the clouds. The feel of Sam’s baby blue blanket as Dean was allowed to hold him for the first time. The sound of his mother’s voice singing to him as she sang him to sleep.

It had been so long since Dean had seen color, he could only stare at those azure eyes with wonder. For the first time in years, Dean felt all his worries drift away, leaving only peace in his heart. He could have stared into those eyes forever, until he realized that the man was waiting for an answer to his question.

He blinked, breaking the spell, and shook his head once to clear his thoughts. “You know, I could use an extra hand if you don’t mind,” Dean said hesitantly.

“Of course,” the stranger said. “What do you want me to do?” God, his eyes were beautiful. And that voice! It was so deep and hypnotizing. Dean could barely focus enough to ask, “Could you roll the spare tire from the trunk over here?”

The man nodded, and walked around the car. As he rummaged in the trunk, Dean took the opportunity to check him out.

He was tall, with dark, casually messy hair and strong features. His jaw was covered with short, dark stubble like he hadn’t shaved in a couple days, but he pulled it off well. He was wearing a light colored trench coat, probably khaki, with a dark suit and loosened tie underneath. His clothing was loose, but Dean could tell that he was fit and muscular. His eyes were still the only color he could see, but Dean thought that the man’s tie might be blue as well.

By the time Dean had processed all this, the stranger had managed to extricate the tire from the wad of junk that occupied his trunk and rolled it towards the front of the car. Dean crouched and started loosening the lug nuts to change the tire. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, like they could see into his soul.

“Hold these for me, would you?” Dean held up the fistful of lug nuts. The man scooped them out of his hand, and seemed to caress Dean’s palm as he did so. His touch was like fire, setting Dean’s skin aflame. He felt the heat from that touch slowly creep across his body, and all he could think of was kissing this man, stripping both their clothes off as their bodies pressed together--

He shook his head again. What was wrong with him? He didn’t even know this guy. He took a steadying breath and pulled the flat tire off the car. He set it aside and grabbed the spare, fitting it onto the posts. He reached for a lug nut, and the stranger placed one into his open palm. _Focus,_ he told himself. Silence fell around them as Dean worked. When the stranger dropped the last bolt into Dean’s hand, he grabbed the flat tire that Dean had set aside and walked around to put it in the trunk as Dean finished tightening the bolts.

Dean grabbed the jack and stood, absentmindedly running his free hand through his hair. God, this guy was hot.

“Seriously, man, thanks for stopping. Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?” He asked hopefully.

“That sounds very nice,” the man said with a smile. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he grinned, and at that moment Dean knew he was done for.

“I’m Dean,” he said as he stuck his hand out.

The stranger reached out and grasped Dean’s hand firmly. “I’m Castiel.”

Dean smiled as Castiel’s eyes met his, and for the first time in a long time, his heart was soaring.

 

 

The drive home was excruciatingly long for Dean. All he could think about was Castiel, and his piercing blue eyes.

They had exchanged numbers, and Dean had promised to give Castiel a call to set a date for coffee. He wondered if Castiel had seen color too, and vaguely wondered what he saw. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. His broad shoulders as he was hunched over the trunk of Dean’s car, his hands as they curled around the lug nuts – his eyes as they gazed into Dean’s.

Dean pulled himself out of his reverie as his house came into view. He pushed the button to open the garage, and pulled the Cadillac into its space next to the 67’ Impala his father had given him. He grabbed his briefcase from the seat next to him, folded his jacket over his arm, and went inside, closing the garage door behind him.

Dean sighed as he flipped the lights on and saw the cardboard boxes stacked against the bare walls. Those would have to wait until Saturday. He absolutely had to unpack this weekend – he was hosting the D&D meeting on Monday night. It wouldn’t do to have his friends over when the house was a mess.

He set his briefcase on his desk and grabbed a bottle of Scotch from the liquor cabinet. He knocked back a shot before pouring himself a glass and sitting at his desk. He could get through at least a couple reports before going to bed, he thought.

Dean pulled out the budget report he had been working on at the office and picked up his pen, taking a sip of the Scotch. He stared blankly at the pages in front of him for a few seconds. All he could think of was those piercing blue eyes.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and threw the pen down. “I’ll just do it tomorrow.” He walked away from the desk and plopped down on the couch, still sipping his glass of scotch. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels until he found a documentary on classic cars. He watched it for a while, trying to focus on what the narrator was saying, but thoughts of Castiel continued to cross his mind.

The last thought he had before drifting asleep was of the color blue.


End file.
